


Stellarium

by Shamione



Series: Dramione One Shots [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Choking, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24007060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamione/pseuds/Shamione
Summary: For the third year in a row, Hermione finds herself in the Malfoy Manor ballroom on New Year's Eve. But what she didn't expect was to find herself on the arms of a shaggy blonde man underneath a breathtaking starry sky. Breathtaking revelations, a bit of sensuality, and a firm grasp pull her down into her ultimate pleasure.PWP. M for reasons.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione One Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872553
Comments: 34
Kudos: 474
Collections: Completed/Downloaded/Read Works





	1. Rewrite #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided to use this one-shot as a way to track my progress / improvement in writing. It was the first one-shot I posted nearly six months ago, and I've gone back and rewritten the entire story. **I would love your feedback** on if you think this rewrite is better than the original. :)

The smooth, timeless melodies of a string orchestra struck against Hermione's eardrums as she gazed about the low-lit Malfoy Manor ballroom. Several couples twirled atop the marble dance floor, countless others mingling along the outskirts, packing highball tables and chairs scattered throughout the chamber.

A full moon shimmered upon the enchanted dome overhead, light flurries of snow sprinkling and dissipating before landing on party-goers' shoulders below. Sconces of blue fire bathed the room in an ethereal radiance, pale purple and green and white fairy lights flickering like stars as they floated throughout the parlor.

Tonight marked her third soiree within the walls of a manor she swore into which she'd never again step foot. If it weren't for Blaise Zabini, she likely never would have.

The two became close friends after she accepted a role within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Beings division six years ago. He had appeared in her doorway, all ebony skin and dazzling white grin, to invite her to lunch as a welcome. He spent the first ten minutes of their following meal atoning for his role in her childhood tormentor, nearly bringing her to tears.

Their friendship flourished swiftly as work assignments and happy hours brought them closer together. And Blaise's association brought a surplus of new Slytherin counterparts, the chief being the two owners of the estate in which she currently stood. 

A slender hand befell her shoulder, boiling fright in her gut as her body shivered slightly. A gentle, beautiful chuckle echoed through her ears as she turned her head, sights landing on Narcissa Malfoy wearing a genuine smile.

"I didn't mean to startle you."

"It happens often," Hermione chortled, settling her free hand on her racing heart. "It's wonderful to see you, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Narcissa, dear. How many times must I tell you?" the elegant woman tutted with a graceful smile. "You have earned the right."

"Of course. The Manor is positively splendid tonight."

"Pansy did a wonderful job this year. Drained my vault to do so," she snickered anew, the elegant pitch resonating in Hermione's mind. "Are you enjoying yourself? You look stunning, darling."

Hermione reddened somewhat at the praise. Blaise had coerced her into a shopping trip last week to obtain a new dress. And while he had found the gown irresistible, purchasing it without hesitation, she had felt utterly bashful. She couldn't deny the dress' beauty: silver sequins coated the bodice, a tulle skirt flaring from the waist that shimmered with modest gems. Nevertheless, she felt rather odd donning it this evening, like an imposter dressed to fit where she didn't truly belong.

"Thank you. I am having an excellent time. However, I cannot give myself credit for the dress. Blaise picked it out, even though I urged him against it."

"Oh, that boy! He's such a lush," Narcissa retorted. "Have Mr. Potter and his wife already departed?"

"Sadly, yes. It seems James developed a stomach bug. I imagine from the sweets his gran didn't give him," Hermione snickered, and Narcissa joined her.

"It is a grandmother's right, I assure you. Speaking of Blaise, have you seen him and Draco recently, dear?"

"No, I haven't seen either in at least an hour."

Narcissa sighed, rocking her head with an incredulous look. "Those boys will be the death of me. I do hope you enjoy the rest of your night. The fireworks will be at midnight."

"They are my favorite part," Hermione offered as a somewhat excited grin formed her lips.

"The Weasley pair certainly know how to perform. I must make my rounds, dear. Say goodbye before you leave?"

"Of course," Hermione nodded, and Narcissa patted her hand gently, familiarly before sweeping away, her pale-blue silk dress robes fluttering behind her.

Fred and George's firework performance was among the three reasons Hermione relished visiting the Manor on New Year's Eve. Last year, she'd suggested their services to Narcissa as a spectacular way to cap out the evening. And the boisterous applause the twins received paved the way for nearly boundless future business, their request queue surging with clients the days following.

The Manor grounds also held extraordinary stargazing spaces that lured her more than she was willing to admit. The gardens maintained little light pollution, the forest encircling the grounds staving the muggle world's interference. Shimmering and falling stars were visible for miles should the weather permit, and the scene had genuinely taken her breath away on her first visit three years prior.

And the third reason she frequented the Manor - well - a pale, lean, silver-eyed man always seemed to pull her in.

The ballroom doors thrusting open drew her intrigue as the Brazilian Minister for Magic sauntered into the room. A shiver of anxiety rippled down her spine as the man twirled in his distinguished yellow robes, a bright smile plastered on his face. Although he was an utterly polite man, he was rather handsy - always seeking her out for longer than tolerable hugs of greeting when they were at the same soiree.

She sincerely did not wish to chatter uselessly with another dignitary - the endless stream inundating her with drinks after Harry and Ginny's departure leaving her head swimming. So she ducked her curls speedily, depositing a half-empty flute of champagne onto a table which vanished it before gliding out into the gardens unnoticed.

It had yet to snow in Wiltshire, but that didn't stop a bitter cold from biting at her flesh as she wandered. The skies were heavily clouded tonight, a deep black settling over the fields making everything seem shadowier.

Cast a warming charm about herself, Hermione paced through the gardens to kill time. They were immaculate, as always. Shrub-lined walkways sparkled with fairy lights as their only illumination. Flowers of bright reds, greens, yellows, and blues danced against her senses, still in full bloom - a pure work of magic in the dead of winter.

She roamed for a time, through floral archways and past rippling fountains until an all too familiar scent saturated the air. 

An impish grin spread across Hermione's characteristics as she rounded the corner, her eyes befalling a white, floral-lined gazebo in the distance. A tall, broad figure stood with their back to her, a faint glow of red traveling up to their face repeatedly. He was unmistakable - Blaise Zabini.

She shuffled forward quickly as her warming charm began to fade, the pungent smell invading her nostrils further as she progressed. Blaise's head thrashed toward her with a touch of hysteria as she stepped into the gazebo, the panicked expression shifting to a broad, squinted grin immediately. "There's my girl!" 

He hoisted his elbow high, exposing his side for her to nuzzle into, which she happily did - the slight warming charm placed on the gazebo not enough to quell the winter chill. As she turned to press her side into his, her sights descended into two deep pools of silver.

Draco Malfoy relaxed on a bench on the opposite side of the veranda, brows knit, a small but pronounced crease on his nose's bridge. She thought his gaze lingered on she and Blaise's closeness for a moment before he seemed to shrug slightly, meeting her gaze anew. 

He looked thoroughly surreal tonight, which wasn't unusual - clad in a black tux with a soft blue vest tucked underneath that complimented his eyes and his mother's robes. His thin black-framed glasses sat high on his nose, emerald tips circling his ears to hold them in place. Pale hair gleamed under the soft fairy lights, styled lengthy and purposefully unkempt on the top and clean-cut on the slides. Scruff lined his chiseled jaw, a feature she told him she fancied some time ago and had yet to see without since.

She couldn't help the grin that grew over her features or the soft, fatuous flutter of her fingers in greeting. 

And when a scanty smirk grew over his lips, a huffed chuckle reddening her cheeks, she felt like a fool. "Hello, Granger."

Her body shivered, but she wasn't sure if it was from the cold or his reception - but Blaise's arm encircled her further regardless. "Get in here. Where's your jacket, beautiful?"

"In some coat cupboard, I'm sure," she scoffed lightheartedly, sliding an arm into his jacket around his back before urging with a tone of bogus accusation, "What are you two doing out here?"

"Nothing illegal."

"It certainly smells illegal," she chuckled, holding two fingers up with Blaise, pinching them playfully. "You holding out on me?"

Her best mate shot her a crooked grin, eyelids heavy as he shrugged playfully. He raised a blunt to his lips and took a long hit, brightly grinning as he handed it to her.

"Golden Girl breaking the law."

Hermione held up the spliff with a broad grin. "No wizarding laws on this to break."

"Well, I'm sure my date is waiting," Blaise announced abruptly, unwrapping himself from Hermione with a meaningful smirk.

"What date?" Draco scoffed.

"Can't keep her waiting!" Though, as Blaise made to leave, he leaned into Hermione's space and whispered, "hands to yourself, Granger."

Her cheeks' deep flush was unmistakable, eyes trailing Blaise as he swept from the pavilion, sonorous guffawing fading away gradually. "You reek! Cast a cleansing charm!"

Inhaling to overinflate her lungs, trying to quell the quacking in her gut, Hermione let her gaze shift slowly back to Draco. He was still perched on the bench, an ankle over his opposite knee, fingers drumming on the back casually. He smirked at her softly, a single eyebrow lifting to the speed of the corner of his lips, and Hermione felt the blood rush to her ears.

An unusual simper formed over her lips before she quietly groaned, whirling and leaning her forearms against the banister with a grimace of embarrassment.

Cognition of her attraction to the Malfoy heir built over the last three months, leaving her hyper-aware of their every interaction. It was all Blaise's fault, naturally. They were chatting over a pint one evening following work about a book Draco lent her. The Italian's intense groan had surprised her before he leveled her with a hardened stare, voice firm with a challenge as he snarked that if she loved Draco so dearly, why not shag him? 

The spray of her drink littered the table at his words, a deep blush gracing her features as his hand pounded the tabletop. Raucous laughter rumbled in his chest as he howled, "I knew it," repeatedly, attracting notice from patrons all around them.

But she couldn't deny it - she did fancy Draco. Rather a lot.

They'd spent very little time alone with one another throughout their friendship. Still, Hermione found herself thinking of him continually. Found herself wishing he would show up wherever she was so they could chat about their days. They'd see each other at least twice a week, generally in Blaise or Harry and the Auror department's company, but it didn't seem enough. She craved those few hours, the minutes they spent together quickly becoming her favorite.

Despite what company they held, the two frequently found themselves deep in discussion, even a heated debate on occasion. Subjects spanned the spectrum of topics from casual to downright gut-churning. They spoke of muggle movies and magical creatures' foundational rights. Had more than one conversation about their favorite books and authors. They even spoke of the utter detriment of blood supremacy to the wizarding world, which to her surprise, did not end in a screaming match.

Draco's warmth startled her as it brushed against her bare arm. He leaned against the railing facing inward, gazing down at her as a new blush worked its way up her neck. She took another drag from the spliff, seeking to calm her nerves before meeting his gaze.

He looked pensive, a touch upset if she could read him correctly. Brow still furrowed, the charming crease of the bridge of his nose prominent.

"You two seem chummier," Draco asserted rather matter-of-factly, and she could hear a trace of jealousy in his tone.

"As we should be. Blaise one of my best friends. You know that."

His touch brushing against her sent a jolt of electricity across her skin as he slipped the spliff from her fingers, drawing it to his lips. "And you dated."

"We went on precisely three dates," she punctuated by holding up three fingers in emphasis as he exhaled deeply, "before we both acknowledged we were much better as friends. Anyway, he's been begging me to fix him up with Luna for months."

"Lovegood?" Draco snorted, vanishing the spent spliff.

A rumble of laughter slipped her lips, making her sway a bit. "Yes. Blaise believes she's, and I quote, 'probably a freak.'"

"Sounds like him," he chortled with a now lopsided grin that seeped into her soul.

A breeze blew through the gazebo then, no warming charm strong enough to stop a late-night December chill. Her body trembled as the cold air flooded her senses, goose flesh rising and causing the hair on her arms to stand straight.

He shifted, his heat invading her as he slipped his jacket from his shoulders, holding it out. "Here."

The elegant expression, the small upturn of his lips' corner, made her flush further, a shyness invading her as she turned. Slipping one arm into the jacket and then the next, she could feel his breath on the nape of her neck, her hair elegantly piled on her head, exposing the lines of her throat, and her whole body flushed.

"Thanks," she whispered, turning back to the rail before setting her palms against the wood and gazing out across the grounds. "I'm genuinely sad that the sky is so overcast tonight."

"And why would that be?"

"The grounds have the best stargazing I've ever seen. But two of three isn't bad."

An effortless snicker played over the sounds of nature, drawing her gaze to a half-dazed smile. "Two of three?"

But she could feel her throat constrict with embarrassment, her words finally processing in her subconscious. Stammering with a bit of hesitation, drumming her fingers, she sought words that wouldn't give away that Draco was, in fact, her third appeal. "Well, the stars make the trip worth it. And Fred and George's fireworks. I genuinely love to watch those. And, well, you know… just…"

"I can show you stars," he murmured, lidded eyes locked to hers with a gaze that sent a frisson down her spine.

"How? Move the clouds?" she questioned somewhat breathlessly.

He chuckled, another melodious tone saturating their closeness as he held out a palm to her. "Do you trust me, Granger?"

"What are you on about?"

"I can take you to see stars."

She hesitated for a moment, brows knitted. "But the fireworks. And I haven't said goodbye to your mother. And..."

"Granger," he growled quietly, eyes shooting straight through her as his gaze penetrated her mind's depths, firing her core. "Do you trust me?"

Perhaps it was the slight haze she felt altering her perceptions, but he seemed different tonight. More commanding. More determined than he'd been in the past. And honestly, the look on his face, the excitement she could see written there, made her a tad breathless. It took her a moment, glancing between his palm and his fiery expression before she slid her hand into his, an utter explosion of flutters undulating in her gut as their skin met.

"Not at all..."

"Perfect," he smirked, and suddenly, her navel pulled backward, their world fading away with an audible pop.

It took a moment for her senses to restart as their feet met pavement. But as they did, her mind stirred at her surroundings. They had arrived in an alleyway, crammed with overflowing rubbish bins and a stench that made her nose wrinkle instinctively. 

He must have noticed the sour expression on her face because he laughed uproariously, a heated grin forming his lips that made her stomach flutter. "This is merely our first stop, Granger. Come on."

He sprang into step, tugging her by their still clasped hands onto a crowded street as London's unmistakable lights appeared. Patrons milled about outside of pubs, clad in short dresses and thick jackets, drinking pints and clamoring loudly. Some smoked cigarettes quietly while others were toppling over drunk, slinging arms around their friends, and singing loudly.

"What are we here for?" she inquired, tightening her hand in his.

He laughed rather heartily, quickly dragging her into a nearly empty corner shop. "Snacks."

"Draco!" an old man behind the counter shouted cheerfully. He looked to be at least 70 years old, but the grin on his face gave him a relatively youthful countenance.

"Snacks?"

"Yes, Granger. Snacks. Get whatever you'd like."

He dropped her hand then and strolled toward a rack of sweets. She couldn't help but snicker as she watched him pick up several packages, then linger on another before shrugging and snagging it, as well.

With a quick scan of the crisps rack, she snagged a couple of bags, willing the glaze of her high not to overindulge. Glancing about the small market, she noticed Draco standing at the counter chatting rather animatedly with the elderly attendant. She snickered lightly at his flailing hands, stepping to his side and setting her goods beside his as he finished whatever story he'd been telling.

"Who's the lovely lady?" the old cashier questioned.

"Frank, this is Hermione Granger," Draco said, sights trailing to hers with a refined smile before flicking back to the old man's. "Granger, this is Frank."

"Pleasure," Hermione nodded, her heart racing from his use of her name. He used it sparingly when they got into heated debates, and it never failed to make her breath catch at the beautiful melody it made coming from his lips.

Frank nodded, playfully waving a handful of bills in the air that Draco just relinquished. "Draco hasn't brought a young lady in before. Just comes by once a week to buy snacks and give me too much money."

"Looks like you two were having some fun," he continued, indicating their attire with a knowing smile. 

Hermione realized then she still wore Draco's jacket. They must have resembled quite the pair to onlookers - lovers getting goodies to take home after a formal affair, hands clasps, and happy smiles playing at both of their lips.

"Funs just starting," Draco chuckled, lofting the bag of their snacks the older man dropped onto the counter.

"You two be safe out there."

"Don't stay open too late. You should be at home enjoying your night."

"Business while business is good, son."

"Night, Frank," Draco huffed with dearness.

"Lovely to meet you," Hermione beamed, and the elderly name gave her a genuine smile as they turned to leave.

As they exited the shop, Draco paused for a moment, meeting Hermione's eyes and holding out his hand. She accepted it with a slight degree of shock, gliding her fingers between his as her face flushed. He gave it a modest squeeze, setting their path back to the apparition spot hand in hand.

"Who's Frank?"

"Death Eaters killed his family during the war," he started. "I've come here once a week to support him since. He doesn't know who I am, truly, but..."

She could swear the feeling of her heart melting was physical as his confession washed over her. He'd been very forthright with his societal reparations after the war, and to hear that determination extended into the muggle world made a broad smile grow across her lips.

"That's... very sweet of you, Draco."

She watched a red tinge grow over his cheeks as his hand tightened around hers. He swallowed thickly and nodded, the corner of his lips ticking up into a small smile as they traipsed into their smelly alleyway. He pulled them to a stop and turned to her, his eyelids heavily hanging as he gazed down at her, their bodies mere centimeters apart.

"Ready?" He whispered, and the ripple of goose flesh that budded along her arms begged her to shiver.

She managed a nod before the familiar feeling behind her navel built, and her world spun more than it already was. When her head stopped whirling and her vision cleared, she found herself in a warm sitting room. A rich wooden aroma filled her nose as she glanced about the elegant space. Deep earthy tones covered the walls, and the furniture's soft beige tried to lure her in.

"And how are we to see stars from here?"

"Ye of little faith," he quipped, releasing her hand and stepping down the hallway to the right. "Granger, hurry along."

"Where are we?" She inquired, taking her time to saunter the long hallway, swiveling her head to view each piece of artwork that adorned the walls along her path. Some watched her as she passed - like the composition of a silver dragon puffing smoke from its nose - while others remained still, very clearly muggle-made.

"My house."

With a tick of confusion, she sought, "I thought you lived at the Manor?"

"No, Granger. I do not live with my mother," he scoffed with a bark of laughter.

"Well, you never said otherwise!"

"And you never asked."

His eyes were lidded as she passed by him, orbs trailing her figure's movement as she strolled into the room by which he stood. She scoffed lightheartedly, mirth ringing from her lips as she scanned the room.

The chamber was utterly luxurious. A large 4-poster bed sat against the far wall, flanked by double doors on either side. Deep emerald curtains hung over the rails in stark comparison against the black satin sheets and thick duvet adoring the mattress. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the back wall, an embellished hearth sitting delicately in the middle. A worn leather sofa sat in front, one seat clearly well used for nights of peaceful reading.

"This might be the strangest way a man has gotten me into his bedroom."

"Spending loads of time in men's bedrooms, Granger?"

"Well... no," Hermione offered, and they both snickered anew.

The smooth shift of fabric on fabric sounded from behind her, and when Hermione turned, he was loosening his tie. He slid it over his head without glancing up, setting to work on his cufflinks as he kicked off his shoes. She felt her cheeks blaze as she watched him untuck his shirt, hands slowly working open the buttons from the top down.

And the nearly lewd smirk he wore when he belatedly glanced up made Hermione's gaze snap away from his exposed chest to his face. Pleading with herself not to gawk at his toned, muscular, pale like moonlight torso - skin that she'd dreamt about immersing her teeth into more than once.

"Want a change of clothes?" he asked quietly, darting his tongue across his lips, her eyes following the movement before she shut them.

"Where will we watch these supposed stars, Malfoy?" she demanded, trying not to sound flushed.

"Patience, Granger. Would you like a change of clothes or not?"

She scoffed lightly, eyes opening and lock to his gaze. "Fine."

His husky chuckle saturated the air, and her knickers, as he paced to the dark cherry wardrobe opposite her. He selected two sets of lounge clothes, tossing one onto the bed and holding the other out to her with a lopsided grin. With a deep inhale, she kicked off her heels, fisted the tulle of her dress into one hand, and shuffled toward him, grasping the green shirt and black pants.

"Loo is over there."

He nodded to the far side of the room, but his gaze never left hers. Never stopped searing the desire on his face against Hermione's mind. Never ceased scanning her in a way that she'd craved for years. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol in her veins or the stifling heat of the room, but a boldness built in her gut, forming a small smirk as she stepped further into his space.

And the slight flare of his nostrils, the deep void of his pupils as they grew, gave her the answer she already knew - he undressed before her on purpose. It seemed he wanted to play dangerously tonight, and the high she felt racing through her begged her to play, too.

"Can you help me with the zipper?"

She turned slowly, eyes lingering over her shoulder for a moment to watch him drink in her body's curves. Citrus and sandalwood overwhelmed senses as he stepped closer, the stroke of his fingers along her shoulders causing a shiver against her will.

He felt close, the heat of his aura softly kissing hers and setting her senses alight. His fingers danced against her neck before lightly kneaded as she tried to focus her mind off of the feel of him. Off of thoughts about how his chest would feel pressed to hers, or the softness of his lips.

The ghost of his nearly soundless laugh wafted against her throat, and it felt as though his lips brushed against her skin, the sensation rippling desire to her core. She could hear her own breaths - labored and a touch jagged - and it appeared he didn't miss them either. He laughed scarcely above a whisper, running a single finger down her surface to her zipper, bringing it between his digits, lowering it deliberately.

And she couldn't stop the low, distinct whimper that escaped her lips as his fingers skimmed up her spine. 

Hermione's eyes snapped wide at that, starling her forward. She didn't chance a glance back before she ducked into the bathroom, red-faced and thoroughly aroused, slamming the door a touch too hard before dazedly shuffling to the sink.

She took a moment to collect herself, palms flat on the coldness of marble, breaths heavy. Whatever intentions her desire held had undoubtedly backfired. The dampness of her knickers from just a single blow of Draco's breath was unmistakable. A single stroke of fingers along her spine.

"Don't have all night, Granger," he called with a throaty laugh.

Her dress fell to the floor, her bare nipples hardening as the cold air waved over them. She smirked to herself as she vanished her knickers, their saturation well beyond any sort of comfort now. And if Draco wished for sensuality, she'd give it to him.

Pulling the shirt over her head, she inhaled deeply. It smelled like him, warm spice, citrus, and sandalwood wafting against her senses and slightly coloring her features. The hem hung just below her arse, the sleeves almost touching her elbows, his stature easily able to envelop her, she thought. 

A stiffness over her shoulders caught her notice, and she turned in the mirror to see why. Emblazoned across her back in large, bold letters was Draco's surname, and she realized then that he had given her his old Quidditch jersey. She felt a bit ridiculous for the unmatched happiness that overcame her as she slipped on the loaned pants. They draped loosely around her frame, swallowing her and giving her no shape. No form. No femininity.

A quick swish of her wand and the loose trousers shrank, tightening to her legs as they transfigured into fabric shorts that barely peeked out from underneath his jersey. She released the clips from her hair with a huffed giggle, and her wild curls sprang to life about her face. Shaking them loose, she inhaled a single deep, steadying breath, smirked, and sauntered out the door. 

The moment his eyes met her bare legs, gravity took ahold of his lower lip. A single, pale eyebrow lifted as his fervent gaze scoured her body, and she thought she could make the shape of his manhood in the front of his lounge pants. When she chuckled softly, he slowly closed his jaw, teeth pulling his bottom lip between them as he met their sights.

"Where are the stars, Malfoy?" she spoke in a low thunder as she approached.

"Up the stairs," he pointed over his shoulder, but his eyes never left hers. It was only then that Hermione noticed the staircase to his right.

She sashayed past him slowly, and he appeared unable to move, other than his eyes following the sway of her hips. He was rooted to his spot as she ascended the stairs, leaving him somewhat awestruck on the story below.

At the summit was a small, dimly lit room with thick, black drapes hanging across one wall. Confusion graced Hermione's features as she glanced about, seeking any door or window out of which she could climb. But the room was barren, other than the increasingly ominous curtain on the far wall.

"Through the drapes," he uttered from behind her, and she startled slightly.

She hadn't heard him approach, but she could feel the heat of his body now as he slid in behind her. Pleaded for the touch of his hand as it ghosted along her lower back. Craved to lean into him as desire soaked her core.

Quietly, Hermione cleared her throat and sought, "This isn't a trick, is it Malfoy?"

"Not at all. Just trust me - through the drapes."

"If I miss the fireworks because of some joke, I'm going to be livid."

"I'll set a bloody alarm, Granger, just get in the damn curtain," he growled as his hand finally pressed into her back, the pressure a bit tantalizing and infuriating as he urged her forward through the slit.

The sheer darkness that met her made her squint to seek sight. As her vision grew more lucid, the faint outlines of a bed pushed against one wall, two tables flanking each side materialized. Her cheeks flushed bright red, thoughts whirling that she currently stood in Draco Malfoy's weird love cave.

Sliding of stone on stone behind her, and she turned toward the sound. Draco stood next to a dark hole in the wall, with a finger pointed toward it as he commanded, "Put your hand in here."

She huffed at him, face slightly scrunching as he lofted an eyebrow in challenge. She acquiesced begrudgingly, stepping forward and sliding her hand a bit hesitantly into the chasm. The moment her palm slipped fully emersed into the darkness, she felt a pin puncture her finger. She yelped, yanking it out with a sneer.

"What the hell, Malfoy."

"Relax, it didn't even hurt."

He was already reclined against the headboard when she turned, a hand in a sweets bag as he indicated the other side. Apprehensively, she rounded the mattress and dropped into the proffered spot, scooting her back against the headboard, as well.

"Ready?"

"To be tossed in a dungeon? Not really."

"As if I could manage," he chortled. "No, just clear your mind for a moment."

"Okay..."

But it felt impossible. Hermione was sitting in a dark room, nearly half-naked in bed with a man she had held a crush on for ages. A man who had all but kissed her neck downstairs. How could her thoughts shift to anything other than the feel of his palm against her back? Or how much she relished the feeling of their clasped fingers?

"Close your eyes," he whispered then, and a wave of unintended pleasure crashed into her lower abdomen. "Think of a place from where you wish to see stars."

"What? I don't -"

"Granger, do as you are told," he commanded, and another wave of desire traveled straight to her center. She huffed, trying to sound obstinate, but joined her eyelids with a hint of enthusiasm. "Think of a place with the most brilliant view of the stars."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere in the world, Granger."

Her mind whirled. She read of many places throughout the globe where stars reigned supreme as her fascination with the heavens grew. She thought of Pic Du Midi, France, and the moon mapping accomplishments there. She thought of Namibia and the African safaris with wide-open views. But a smile graced her features as Lake Ballard in Western Australia visualized in her mind.

"Open your eyes."

When her eyelids fluttered apart, she gasped in sheer disbelief. No longer was she sitting on a bed in a dark, enclosed room. All around her, stars sparkled against a night sky as far as she could see, reflecting off a lake of still, crystal water about her legs. She could feel she still sat on the mattress, the water not seeping through her clothes, but everything around her was a near-perfect replica of the visions of Australia in her mind.

"Where are we?"

"Lake Ballard... In Australia..."

She could hardly speak - she simply didn't possess the breath. The scenery had stolen every ounce of air from her lungs the moment she had opened her eyes. She watched a few meteors fly in astonishment, in pure admiration.

It looked just as she remembered from her journey to restore her parents' memories after the war. So pristine. So innocent. So breathtaking. Water clouded her vision, tears seeming to make the stars glimmer ever brighter.

"This is… this is amazing, Draco," she whispered, flicking her gaze between his and the heavens.

He had a soft smile on his face as he reached out, curling his fingers under her chin to still her head. Draco drew her face toward his, a gentle thumb swiping against her cheek and wiping away a bit of the moisture that had leaked from her eyes.

"How?"

"Blaise and I have been working on this together. It's a mixture of Pensieve magic and some original spellwork. A touch of muggle technology worked in, too." The proudness on his face as he gazed across the Australian lake was palpable. "We've been working on it for years."

"This is just… brilliant. Utterly brilliant. I'm stunned."

"You're the first one to see it, other than us."

"Thank you," she whispered, "for sharing this with me. It's so beautiful."

"Crisps?"

"I don't think I'm hungry anymore," she whispered, her neck craned to take everything in, a wave of magic wafting as he vanished the snacks from the bed.

"Lie back. It's easier to see that way."

She nodded somewhat dumbly, stretching her legs out and sinking back into the mound of pillows. Draco joined her a moment later, his body nearly touching hers, their arms only centimeters apart.

"Do you intend to produce these for sale?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Investors aren't too keen when an ex Death Eater and his best mate start talking about blood magic."

"The finger prick..."

"Yes."

"That's not fair," she answered somewhat heatedly. "Nothing about this seems malicious. This… this could be -"

"Life's not always fair, Granger."

"But -"

"Besides, now, this can be ours," he breathed, and she felt his head turn, his gaze searing into the side of her face. Her lips moved on their own accord, forming a shy smile, the sincerity in his tone heating her cheeks anew.

They laid under the stars for some time, silently enjoying each other's companionship and the brilliant shining glimmers. Draco occasionally stirred, the bed rustling as he shifted imperceptibly closer into her until they were practically touching. The kiss of his skin against hers was intoxicating—the hairs tickling hers, flushing goose flesh along her expanse.

His finger grazed the back hers lightly before trailing softly across the back of her hand. A quivered breath hitched in her throat, her eyes fluttering slightly as a desire formed her features. And when he ran his fingers down her palm smoothly to lace them with hers, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to relish the intense sensation of pleasure washing over her.

His lidded eyes were already on her as she shifted her head, the winsome look on his face making her heart leap. Her fingers trembled in his as he slowly, deliberately drifted his head toward hers. Short, jagged breath slipped both of their lips, their eyes fluttering closed as the distance between their mouths gradually closed.

She ached to push forward and seize him. To feel the roll of their lips together. To beg his tongue to dance with a dominance against hers. For his hand to fist in her hair, and to feel the tautness of his desire as he clutched her curls.

Noses brushed against one another, breaths panting in tandem as their lips scarcely met. And a loud blaring rang out around the room, panic ripping Hermione from the moment as her whole body tensed, eyes going round. He groaned, running a stiff hand down his face as he rolled away, sitting and gripping his wand to cease the loud warbling.

He sighed dejectedly as he stood, and she could see the defeat written on his shoulders. "Come on - time for fireworks..."

"Draco…" Hermione murmured as she scrambled to her knees, crawling to his side of the bed. 

Her fingers sought his forearm, clutching tightly to deter him from leaving. The confusion on his face lingered as he turned back, watching as she rose onto her knees before him. Their faces were nearly level when her free hand rose to caress his cheek.

"There's always next year," Hermione breathed.

His fingers found her chin quickly, a thumb sitting in her chin as the rest curled underneath, raising it a touch roughly. She relished the feel of it, the dominance radiating from him. A fervent smirk floated across his features before his lips were on hers. Lustfully. Heavily. Passionately. Yet somehow soft and absolute. Delicate and pleading. Giving and taking.

Better than she'd ever imagined their first kiss would be.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to see you in that shirt?" He whispered, brushing their lips together in delicate caresses so distant but a welcome change from the passion before. "And now all I want to do is rip it off you."

His words ignited a wave of pleasure in her womanhood, her fingers fisting in his shirt as she rose, pressing their lips together in desperation. His hand shifted into her curls, nails scraping her scalp as he rolled their lips. Swiping his tongue across her lower one and slipping it inside as she parted them.

Utter need swirled in her core as his tongue dominated hers. Hermione whimpered lightly as his teeth sank into her lower lip. Clamored a bit primally as his hands fisted on her loaned jersey, pulling back and welcoming the crisp air as he lifted it deftly from her figure.

He looked like a man possessed as his eyes trailed her clavicle, searing heat down to her bare bust. His fingers vibrated as they skirted along her skin, setting her spirit aflame as he explored her breasts' curves, kneading as she bit her lip to quell her quacking nerves.

The depths of his pupils, black voids only scantly rimmed with gray as they met hers, were electric. He appeared utterly carnal, his fingers finding her curls, fisting roughly as he tugged her head backward. Teeth sank into her throat, a pressure of his pain making her body shudder with unmitigated need. Made a raucous moan stumble past her lips as her fingers clawed at his chest.

"I knew you'd like me rough, my gorgeous little swot. Lie back." 

The command in his voice, the sheer dominance of his frame, made her body feel weak, core pulsing with a vivacious need. Pliantly, her body fell backward onto the bed, curls splaying a chestnut frame about her face. His chest was bare by the time she fluttered open her eyes, sights exploring her body as he rolled his lips together.

He looked selfish as he sank onto his knees, an expression spanning his features that could rival a dragon watching his treasure. As if everything within his grasp was his and his alone. The firm caress of his touch along her skin made her legs tremble, her core throbbing as he worked two fingers underneath her transfigured shorts' waistbands.

And his jagged inhale as the musky scent of her arousal saturated the small space between them made her flush thoroughly. A maddeningly slow finger trailed up her folds, toying with her clit as he reached her apex.

"You're so ready for me, aren't you, Granger?"

Gods, the heat of his fingers was infuriating. The slow, barely-there pressure making desperate whimpers slip her lips as she tried to roll her hips against him.

"Tell me what you want."

His firm grasp hauled her legs apart then, eyes locked to hers undeviatingly. An utter hunger spanned his features as his lips pressed into the inside of her knee. Bouncing to her opposite thigh and back before kissing her lower lips with a heat that made the entire expanse of her body flame with passion. He lingered there, the warmth of his breath teasing every centimeter of her womanhood for seconds that made Hermione believe she might erupt.

"Tell me, beautiful," he whispered, lips brushing against her lowers and making her body shiver. "What do you want?"

"Please, Malfoy... please."

"Draco," he growled, teeth sinking into her upper thigh.

"Draco, please!"

Hermione's body vibrated with pure ecstasy when Draco's firm tongue pressed through her folds, discovering her apex with artistry she'd never experienced prior. Her back caved under the weight, body arching instinctively as he explored her. As he set a maddening pace, firm and precise. Careful yet so dangerous. Attentive yet so fierce.

Loving and so profound.

His hands circled her thighs then, a firm pressure holding her hips in place. Long fingers toyed with her folds before pulling them wide. And she let her moans fill the air as his tongue set a crusade of concise strokes to praise her femininity. As he celebrated her delicacies as if it were the only thing on which he craved to feast.

Her body trembled, fingers finding silk sheets to fist in as he sucked her clit. Teeth planting a bit of pressure that made her hips strive to buck, body tensing in delight, stretching the sheets taut.

And the unmitigated waves of rapture that crashed against her core as he drove two fingers deep inside felt like pure divinity come to life. She cried out, her legs shaking as he pumped. Quickly then slowly. Teasing then giving. Exploring, hooking as his mouth worshiped her clit.

"Faster," she cried, tears of pleasure welling in her fastened eyes. "I'm... I'm close…"

"Good girl," Draco growled through teeth impressed deep into her thigh. "Come for me, beautiful." 

His heavy thumb fell to apex then, and the rhythmic pulses of his arm pushed her off a cliff to oblivion. Forced her head back in unintelligible cries of tribute to whatever deity put him between her thighs tonight. As her legs begged him to continue. As her hips thrust into his hands as she sailed over the sea of bliss that soaked his fingers and her core.

She scarcely noticed the strength of his grasp on her legs' backs, forcing them against his chest. But the heat of his manhood rubbing against her apex earned her whimper of urgency. Made her plead for the sensation of him between her lips.

The heat of his tip kissed her gently, and her entire body tensed as he pushed inside.

Pleasure tingled at the tip of her toes at the feel of their togetherness, at the rush of excitement that curled her lips into a grin at her new fullness. Her entire body flushed as he chuckled huskily, his grip firm on her thighs as the rock of his hips pressed against their backs.

Her eyes finally fluttered open for the first time since she laid back, and the sight was utterly breathtaking. Draco was bathed in stars, the lust-filled furrow of his features appearing etched in the heavens. His smooth skin seemed to radiate in the artificial starlight, the fingers clutching her thighs nearly pure white in tautness. He looked stunning, eyes cast downward to watch where their bodies joined as his pace grew punishing.

Their bodies moved in a tantalizing tandem, skin kissing with each thrust. And when Draco leaned forward, one leg flexing against his shoulder as the other dropped, parting her legs wide, she couldn't stifle the moans that tumbled from her lips. Couldn't quell the thumping of her need or the quiver of her womanhood as his lips connected with hers in a searing kiss.

And when his fingers surrounded her neck, pulsing a light pressure to each side inquisitively, she nodded a consent she'd never given before.

The fire in his eyes as he pulled back was unmistakable. Unforgettable. And the smirk that spanned his features as his fingers constricted around Hermione's trachea was intense. Intimate. Wholly focused on her, the snap of his hips, and the satisfaction on her face.

Gods, she had never been choked before. Never felt what it was like to be breathless as you willingly put your life in the hands of another. Never welcomed the rush of adrenaline or the euphoria that made her core clench. Never keened the intense vigor of a partner's face as their hand forced her mind and her core toward a dangerous orgasm.

Hermione panted as Draco varied pressure, breathless moans falling from her lips as his onslaught of pleasure assailed her sense. As her legs quaked against his chest. As her fingers wrapped around his forearm, digging nails of joy into his skin.

"Does my witch want to come again?"

She tried to beg him, to plead for a second wave of release, but his fingers tightening around her throat stole any words she wished to speak. His hips snapped a bit frantically, and Hermione welcomed the utter force bursting behind her clit. Embraced the black that flashed over her eyes as her legs went taught, her mind blanking any thoughts other than the feel of him.

She felt spent, her cunt weeping with pleasure as he withdrew, his hands falling away from her throat and letting in a breath more pleasurable than life-giving. And she let her pliant form be pulled upward, flipped gently, and placed onto her stomach. The grip on her arse was tantalizing, and the firm feel of his teeth on her arsecheek was surreal.

"On your knees, beautiful," he growled against her skin. "Let me see all of you."

Shaking with both exhaustion and delight, she did as directed, thrill coursing through her at his dominance. She shifted forward somewhat and slowly pushed her arse into the air, her face pressed against the mattress as her back bent with absolute urgency.

The ghost of his heat between her thighs rippled another wave of want as his pushed opened her knees with his. And the loving feel of his lips working up her spine made a whimper blunder past her lips. His lips set against her shoulder, and a ragged moan saturated their small space as he shifted himself back into her soaked slit.

He set a leisurely pace, thrusting into her softly. Sweetly. Deliberately. Lips peppering kisses all over her frame as he groaned, arms encircling her middle and drawing her back into him. Fingers running down her abdomen and discovering a haven on her clit. Circling maddening pleasure as his length tore indelicate, jagged moans from her throat.

"It won't be long," Draco whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.

And the cold air that trailed her sweaty skin as he righted, hands seizing her hips, was invigorating. 

His pace grew punishing again, and Hermione begged for it. Mantras of his given name singing through her gasped wails as her fingers sought sheets. As she shoved her arse into his hips to draw him in.

"Fuck," he grunted, nails digging deeply against her hips. "So perfect, Hermione."

And her pleasure seemed to soar at the sound of her name. Her insides ignited suddenly, pleasure erupting as he fucked her unrelentingly. Slamming out wave after wave, cry after cry. Her entire body felt taut, tears slipping from her eyes as he worshiped her given name over and over.

Draco forced into her once, twice, thrice more before he groaned loudly. And she could feel her fluttering insides milking his hot arousal deep within her. Their labored breaths the only noise as his forehead fell to the middle of her shoulder blades.

He lingered there for a moment, her body shaking to hold herself upright, before his heat, his girth, left her. The soft sensation of magic waft against her skin, his muttered cleansing charm clearing away their coupling.

"Are you going to move?" Draco sought with merriment in his tone.

"Can't," she huffed through panted laughs.

He lifted her effortlessly then, moving the sheets and depositing her between them. Hermione couldn't open her eyes, but she knew she wore a sated grin.

He chuckled as his arms encircled her waist, pulling her into his chest. "Try not to look so satisfied, Granger."

"Can't," she tittered, the contented smile stretching further across her features.

Inclining her head toward his, she belatedly cracked her eyes. His hair laid stuck to his head, and his face was thoroughly flushed crimson. She feathered light fingers up his chest, and he inhaled sharply. Settling them softly on his cheek, Hermione drew his face toward hers, pillowing a sweet, meaningful kiss to his lips.

"Hell of a first date, Granger," he murmured against her lips, and Hermione had to pull back to laugh brilliantly.

"I can't wait until Blaise hears about this."


	2. ORIGINAL PIECE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you saw in the last chapter, this is a one-shot. And the below is the **originally posted** feature. If you've come from a story update, HEAD OVER TO CHAPTER ONE TO READ THE NEW VERSION! 
> 
> the below chapter is merely the base for the rewrite from chapter 1.

Hermione gazed about the party from a low lit corner regarding the magnificent surroundings. Soft orchestra music played throughout the hall as witches and wizards danced across the marble floor of the Malfoy Manor ballroom. The dome above, charmed to show an elegant full moon night, dropped flurries of enchanted snow that dissipated before reaching the heads of the party-goers underneath. Sconces of blue fire bathed the room in an etheric radiance as fairy lights flickered throughout the parlor. 

"Hermione," a beautiful voice rang out, spooking her slightly. A soft, elegant chuckle reverberated through her ears as Narcissa Malfoy came into view. "I didn't mean to startle you, dear." She leaned in and kissed Hermione on both cheeks, offering an effortless smile on retreat. 

"Hello, Missus Malfoy," Hermione said brightly. 

"Narcissa, dear. How many times must I tell you?" Narcissa laughed beautifully as she tutted Hermione. "This is your third New Years' ball. You have earned the right." 

"Of course, Narcissa," Hermione smiled. "The hall is truly splendid tonight." 

"Yes, Pansy did a wonderful job this year. Drained my vault to do so," she smiled sweetly. "Are you enjoying yourself? You look stunning, darling."

Hermione reddened slightly at the praise. She and Blaise had gone shopping last week for her dress, and while he had found it irresistible, she had felt utterly shy. It was a gorgeous dress, silver sequins littering the bodice, flaring at the waist into a tulle skirt that shimmered with gems. He had bought it on the spot, refusing to allow her any say. When she had shown up at the Potter's to floo to the party together, Ginny had gushed, demanding Harry buy her pretty things, as well.

"Oh, yes, it's been pleasant," Hermione smiled. 

"Mr. Potter and his wife? Have they left?" 

"Yes, they had to get back to the children. James developed a stomach bug. I imagine from the sweets his gran didn't give him," Hermione chuckled, and Narcissa joined her. 

"A grandmother's right, I assure you. Have you seen Blaise and Draco, dear?" 

"No, ma'am. I haven't seen them in at least an hour." 

"Those boys will be the death of me," Narcissa lamented with a shake of her head. "Please enjoy your night. The fireworks will be at midnight." 

"They are my favorite part," Hermione offered. 

"Those Weasley boys surely know how to put on a display. I must make my rounds, dear. Say goodbye before you leave?" 

"Of course," Hermione nodded, and Narcissa patted her hand sweetly as she swept away, her soft blue silk dress robes billowing behind her. 

Hermione had only come to this party for three reasons. 

Firstly, the Manor grounds had remarkable star gazing spaces. The gardens held little light pollution, and you can see stars for miles around. It had taken her breath away the first time she had seen it. 

She hadn't wanted to attend the ball three years ago, but Blaise had all but clothed her, hauling her through the floo and forcing her through the ballroom doors. And she had surprisingly had a wonderful time. And when she saw the stars as she walked through the grounds that night, Hermione decided a visit to the Manor was paramount at any opportunity.

Secondly, were the Weasley fireworks display. Her second year in attendance, she had convinced Fred and George to volunteer their services for a fireworks exhibition to cap out the year as the clock ticked to midnight. It had been an enormous success, and their business had soared afterward, Narcissa giving out their information to all who requested. 

And the third, well. A pale, lean silver-eyed man always seemed to pull her in. 

When she accepted her position within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Beings division six years ago, she had been thrilled. While arranging her office, a soft knock rapped on her door, and she was greeted with a dazzling grin of one Blaise Zabini. He treated her to lunch that day, as a welcome, and profusely atoned for his childhood tormentor of her. They became fast friends as they worked on projects together, and his fellowship brought with him a slew of Slytherin counterparts. 

Their first few meetings had been silted, wholly awkward. But after both Draco and his mother made embarrassing, public presentations of apology to her (see: Hermione Granger Library at Hogwarts), they had become quick friends. Though they hadn't spent time just the pair of them, Hermione found herself thinking of him continually. They traded novels and films, much to her surprise, as much as they could and spent long nights at their friends' parties discussing them, politics, business, and more. 

A peal of loud laughter brought her back from her thoughts into the enchanting ballroom. As she stared around the room, she sighed deeply to herself. It was only five past ten, and she was already somewhat tipsy. After Harry and Ginny left, she had fielded Ministry Officials after Dignitaries attempting to schmooze her. They brought with them trays of brandies and fine firewhiskeys. Chocolate liqueur cocktails, and aged elf wine. She laughed somewhat at her meager position. 

The ballroom doors burst apart, and a flash of brilliant jeweled yellow caught her eye. The Brazilian Minister for Magic sauntered into the room, and her body shivered. He was rather handsy and always seemed to seek her out for longer than tolerable hugs of greeting. She stiffened, attempting to shield herself as she sat down her half-empty flute of champagne and slipped out into the gardens, unnoticed. 

It had yet to snow in Wiltshire, but that didn't stop the cold from biting at her flesh as she crossed the grounds. The skies were cloudy tonight, a deep black settling over the fields, making the fairy lights glow brighter. A peacock cawed in the distance, and she snickered at the absurdity. 

Hermione pulled her wand then and cast a warming charm about herself as she paced through the gardens to kill time. They were immaculate as always. Shrub lined walkways sparkled with fairy lights as their only illumination. The flowers were still in full bloom, a true work of magic in the dead of winter. Bright reds, greens, yellows, and blues invaded her scenes as she strolled the walkways. 

Some while later, Hermione found herself stunned silent by a tunnel of floral wrapped archways. It surprised her, yet again, how extensive and undefiled the Manor terrains were. She had never noticed this archway but added to her list of reasons to return immediately. As she stepped into the curve, it felt genuinely etheric. Fairy lights shimmered around her, giving the dangling purple flowers an intangible beauty. She wasn't sure if it was the buzz she felt swirling through her head or if the archway was charmed, but a tranquillity flooded her as she roamed unhindered.

A familiar scent invaded her nose as she exited her etheric passageway. Hermione smiled to herself as her eyes fell on a floral lined gazebo, a tall, broad figure standing with their back to her, a faint glow of red traveling to his face. She knew none of the old-fashioned dignitaries inside would partake, so she knew she had found Blaise hiding out. She shuffled toward the gazebo a fraction more quickly as her warming charm began to fade, the pungent smell invading her nostrils as she went.

"There's my girl!" Blaise bellowed as Hermione stepped into the gazebo. She noticed Draco relaxing on a bench opposite him and beamed, giving him a small wave. She shivered as the warming charm they had placed on the gazebo washed over her skin. "Get in here," Blaise commanded as he raised an arm to allow her entrance. "Where's your jacket, beautiful?" 

"In some coat closet, I'm sure," she laughed as she nestled into his side, slipping an arm around his back as his fell over her shoulder. Draco's face fell somewhat, a small frown set over his lips as his brows knit together.

"What are you two doing out here?" She urged with mock accusation in her tone. 

"Nothing!" Draco blurted out as his eyes widened in shock.

"Doesn't smell like nothing," she chuckled. "You holding out on me?" She spoke to Blaise then, poking his chest firmly. He shot her a crooked grin and shrugged. He raised a blunt to his lips and took a long hit, giving her a bright smile as he handed it to her. 

"Mate!" Draco shouted, and both Hermione and Blaise cackled loudly. 

"What?" she questioned as she set the spliff between her lips and inhaled deeply. She tried not to laugh at the look on Draco's face as she held the smoke in her lungs. 

"Look at his face," Blaise chortled, and Hermione barked out a laugh, the smoke going with it. 

"Can you blame me?" Draco huffed, his face falling into a playful sneer. "Mrs. Goody Two Shoes is more likely to tattle on us than break the law." 

Hermione held up the spliff with a broad grin. "No wizarding laws on this to break," she offered, and Blaise chuckled beside her. 

"Well, I'm sure my date is waiting," Blaise announced aloud suddenly, unwrapping himself from Hermione with a clever smirk.

"What date?" Draco asked. 

"Can't keep her waiting," Blaise said brightly. As he made to leave, and leaned over to Hermione and whispered, "hands to yourself, Granger," and she felt her face flush. 

Blaise had confronted her months ago as they sat drinking in a pub. She has been prattling on about a book Draco had given her when Blaise groaned. He told her if she loved him so much, why not shag him. She spit her drink all over the table at that, a deep blush gracing her features as he laughed loudly, howling I knew it, pounding his hand on the table.

"You reek! Cast a cleansing charm!" she shouted after him and listened to his sonorous laughter fading away as he swept from the gazebo. 

She took a deep breath then, and shifted to the opposite side of the arbor, leaning her forearms against the railing. She took another drag from the spliff and exhaled it deeply. She heard Draco shuffle next to her and lean back against the wooden post. His brow was furrowed as he stared down at her. 

She glanced at him, a soft simper on her face as she drank him in. He looked stunning tonight, which wasn't unusual. He was clad in a black tux, a soft blue vest, complimenting both his eyes, and she assumed his mother's robes. His hair was shaggy, and he had a scruff on his jawline that made him look utterly masculine. She had told him she fancied the look some years back and hadn't noticed him without it since. His emerald cufflinks glittered as he held out a hand to her requesting the blunt. She smiled up at him as she took one last pull and placed it between his fingers. 

"You two seem chummy," Draco said, and she could hear a trace of jealousy in his tone. 

"As we should be. He's one of my best friends," she chuckled. 

"And you dated," he said stiffly, extinguishing the blunt and vanishing it. 

"We went on precisely three dates," she punctuated, holding up three fingers in emphasis, "before we both acknowledged we were much better friends," she laughed. "Anyway, he's been begging me to fix him up with Luna for months." 

"Lovegood?" Draco snorted. 

"Yeah. He believes she's, and I quote, 'probably a freak.'" She and Draco both chortled loudly at that. 

"Sounds like him," he keened as he exhaled deeply.

A breeze blew through the gazebo then, no warming charm strong enough to stop a late-night December chill. Her body shivered as the cold air flooded over her, goose flesh causing the hair on her arms to stand straight. 

"Here," he said quietly, holding out his suit jacket to her. She stared at it for a moment, not moving to accept it. "Go on," he prodded her, and she chuckled softly.

She straightened herself and turned her back to him, slipping one arm into the jacket and then the next. She could feel his breath on the nape of her neck, her hair piled on her head elegantly, showing the lines of her throat, and her whole body flushed. 

"Thanks," she said quietly as she turned back to the rail, setting her palms against it as she gazed out across the grounds. 

"I wished it would be a clear night," she whispered. 

"Why?" 

"The stars here were wonderful last year. I look forward to coming. That and the fireworks. And…" Hermione trailed off, looking over at Draco with a soft smile. 

"Blaise?" he huffed.

"No," she said, knitting her brows slightly and shaking her head. 

"I can show you stars," he whispered, and it sent a chill over her frame.

"How? Move the clouds?" she giggled, and he laughed next to her. 

"No," he laughed. "Do you trust me, Granger?" Her heart seized a bit at the look on his face as he held out his palm to her.

"What are you on about?"

"I can take you to see stars," he huffed. 

"But the fireworks. And I haven't said goodbye to your mother. And..." 

"Granger," he growled low and heat pooled in her core. "Do you trust me?" His eyes were lidded and shot straight through her as he gazed at her up and down.

It took her a moment, looking between his palm and his fiery expression before she slid her hand into his, a blush rising on his face as she did. 

"Not at all," she huffed a short laugh but gave him a sly smile. 

"Perfect," he smirked, and within a second, they were spinning on the spot, a familiar pull behind her navel. 

When her vision cleared as their feet met pavement, she took in her surroundings. They had arrived in an alleyway, clad with dumpsters, and a stench she didn't wish to smell. 

"Not exactly what I was expecting," and Hermione's laughter filled the air. 

"It's only the first stop, Granger. Come on." He fired her a passionate grin that made her stomach flutter. They had flirted on occasion but nothing too serious, much to her dismay. But any time his face held that handsome smirk, warmth flooded in her core.

He tugged her then, by their clasped hands, as he sprang into step. He pulled her onto a crowded street, and she recognized they were in London. Patrons stood about, outside of pubs clad in short dresses and thick jackets, drinking pints and clamoring loudly. Some smoked cigarettes quietly while others were already toppling over drunk, slinging arms around their friends and singing loudly. She laughed as she watched them, walking hand in hand with Draco down the street. 

"What are we here for?" she inquired, and he gave her a lazy grin that made warmth pool anew.

"Snacks," he laughed as he pulled her into a nearly empty corner store. 

"Draco!" an old man behind the counter roared. He looked to be at least 70 years old, and he had a bright grin on his face. Draco held up a hand in a wave as they trod further into the store.

"Snacks?" 

"Yes, Granger. Snacks. Get whatever you like." He dropped her hand then and bound toward a rack of sweets. She giggled as he picked up multiple packages, lingered on another, shrugged, and snagged it, as well. 

She crossed the store, grabbing a few bags of crisps and a couple of cakes for her own. Her stomach rumbled as the high glazed over her eyes, making her crave everything in sight. She shook her head with a snort as she sought to control herself. She noticed him standing in front of the drink cooler a moment later, bobbing his head back and forth. 

"Trouble?"

"I want that drink. But I also want that drink," Draco pointed between a bottle of still water and a bottle of orange Fanta.

"How about we both get one and share?" She reached in and seized a bottle of water, handing it to him as she took the Fanta, as well. 

"Bloody brilliant, Granger!" He laughed loudly, and in the bright lights of the store, she could see the deep red color of his eyes. She presumed hers echoed the same, and she snickered. 

"Who's the lovely lady?" the old cashier said as they dropped their mountain of snacks on the counter.

"This is Hermione Granger. Granger, this is Frank." 

"Pleasure," Hermione nodded, her heart racing from his use of her name. He used it sparingly when they got into heated debates, and it never failed to make her breath catch at the beautiful music it made coming from his lips. 

"Draco hasn't brought a young lady in before. Just comes by once a week to buy snacks and give me too much money." Frank smiled as he waved a handful of bills in the air that Draco had just relinquished to him. 

"Looks like you two were having some fun," Frank smiled as he indicated their attire with a knowing smile. Hermione realized then she still had on Draco's jacket. They must resemble quite the pair to onlookers. Lovers getting goodies to take home after a formal affair.

"Funs just starting," Draco chuckled. 

"Well, you two me safe out there," Frank ordered as he rested their bag of treats on the counter, another meaningful look gracing his features.

"Don't stay open too late, Frank." 

"Business while business is good, son." 

"Night, Frank," Draco laughed as he scooped the bag from the counter. 

"Lovely to meet you," Hermione beamed, and the elderly name gave her a genuine smile as they turned to leave. 

"Who's Frank?" She asked as they exited the shop. Draco held out his hand to her, and she blushed, accepting it. He gave it a small squeeze as they walked back down to their apparition spot hand in hand.

"Death Eaters killed his family during the war…" he started. "I've been coming here once a week to support him since. He doesn't know who I am, truly, but…" 

She felt her heart melt somewhat at his words. He had been very forthright with his societal repayment after the war. To hear that determination extended into the muggle world made a broad smile grow across her lips.

"That's… very sweet of you, Draco." 

She watched a red tinge grow over his face as his hand tightened on hers. He swallowed thickly and nodded, the corner of his lips ticking up into a small smile as they traipsed into their smelly alleyway. He pulled them to a stop and turned to her. Their bodies were inches apart, and she noticed his eyelids hung heavily as he stared down at her. 

"Ready?" He whispered, and her body shivered at his tone. She managed a nod as she looked up at him through her lashes. The familiar feeling behind her navel built, and her world spun more than it already was. 

When her head stopped spinning and her vision cleared, she found herself in a warm sitting room. A rich wooden smell filled her nose as she glanced about the place. Deep earthy tones covered the falls, and the soft beige of the furniture tried to lure her in. She noticed a television in the corner and smiled. 

"Now, I know we can't see stars from here," she giggled.

"Ye of little faith, Granger," he said, treading down the hall, leaving her marveling over the euphuistic sitting room. "Granger, hurry along," his voice echoed down the hall and through her ears.

She paced into the hall quickly and saw him standing just outside a doorway at the other end. 

"Where are we?" She inquired, taking her time to swivel her head and view each piece of artwork that adorned the walls along her path. Some watched her as she walked by. Like the composition of a silver dragon that blew smoke from its nose under her gaze. And some were very clearly muggle.

"My house." 

"What? I thought you lived at the Manor?"

"No, Granger. I do not live with my mother," he laughed loudly. 

"Well, you never said otherwise!" 

"And you never asked," he chuckled again with a shrug. 

As she met him, she glanced into the room by which he had been waiting. It was his bedroom, and a light laugh rang out of her mouth as she sauntered inside. He followed behind her, setting their bag of goodies on a table near the door. 

His bedroom was utterly luxurious. A large 4-poster bed sat against the far wall, flanked by two sets of double doors. The curtains hanging over the rails were a deep emerald green that stood out against the black satin sheets and thick comforter. Floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the back wall, an embellished hearth sitting delicately in the middle. A worn leather sofa sat in front, clearly well used for nights of peaceful reading.

"Well, I can admit this is the strangest way a man has gotten me into his bedroom."

"Spending a lot of time in men's bedrooms, Granger?"

"Well… no," Hermione offered, and they both snickered anew. 

When she turned to face him, he was loosening his tie. He pulled it over his head and set out to work on his cufflinks, kicking his shoes off as he did. She felt her face flame as she watched him untuck his shirt, starting to unbutton the top few buttons. When he looked up, he shot her a heated smirk as he noticed her gaze lingering on his exposed chest. 

"Want a change of clothes?" he asked quietly, and her cheeks heated more.

"Where are we going to watch these supposed stars, Malfoy?" she asked, trying not to sound flushed.

"Patience, Granger. Would you like a change of clothes or not?" 

"Fine," she snorted. 

She heard him laugh quietly as he paced to the dark cherry wardrobe opposite her. He extracted two sets of lounge clothes, throwing one onto the bed and holding the other out to her with a lopsided grin. She took a deep breath and shuffled toward him, taking the green shirt and black pants into her hands. 

"Loo is over there," he said, pointing to the door to the right of the bed. 

"Can you help me with the zipper?" If he was going to play this game, she could play it right back. She shot him a sly smile and watched his smirk grow broader. She was right; he had been undressing in front of her on purpose.

She turned, offering her back to him and could feel the heat of his body as he stepped into her. Orange and sandalwood filled her nose as his fingers toyed with the collar on her neck. Her body flushed as he blew a delicate breath against her ear, her center slickening almost instantly. When her body shivered, he chuckled, taking the zipper in his hand and pulling it slowly down her body. 

When his finger trailer up the line of her back, she moaned. She hurried away from him then, turning her red face quickly to his, which held a fervent grin before she ducked into the bathroom. 

She took a moment to collect herself, leaning against his sink. Her little plan has backfired, her knickers soaked with wetness at just a single blow of his breath. A single finger along her spine. 

"Don't have all night, Granger," she heard him say from the other side of the door and sulked at her reflection on the mirror. 

Stepping out of her dress, her bare nipples hardened as the cold air waved over them. She smirked to herself as she vanished her knickers. They were too saturated to be comfortable at this point, and if Draco wanted sensual, she'd give it to him. 

Pulling the shirt over her head, she inhaled deeply. It smelled like him, and her face colored again. The hem hung just below her arse, and the sleeves almost touched her elbows. A stiffness over her shoulder blades caught her notice, and she turned in the mirror to see why. Emblazoned across her back were large, bold letters that spelled out his last name. He had given her his old Quidditch jersey, and she beamed at the attention. 

When she slipped the pants on, they draped loosely around her frame. She took in her appearance in the mirror, and the clothes seemed to swallow her, giving her no shape. No femininity. No form.

She pulled her wand out, and with a swish, the loose trousers shrank, tightening to her legs as they transfigured into tiny boy short style briefs. They barely peeked out from underneath his jersey, and she smirked to herself. She released the clips from her hair, and her wild curls sprang to life about her face. Piling her belongings on the dressing table near the door, and taking one last look at herself before, she steeled her face and sauntered out the door. 

The moment his eyes met her bare legs, his mouth fell open slightly. His eyes went round as they scoured her body, and she thought she could make the shape of his manhood in the front of his lounge pants. When she chuckled softly, he snapped his jaw closed and met her eyes. 

"Where are the stars, Malfoy?" she said in a low rumble as she approached him.

"Up the stairs," he pointed over his shoulder, but his eyes never left hers. It was only then that Hermione actually noticed the staircase to his right.

She sashayed past him then, and he seemed unable to move, other than his eyes following the sway of her hips. He was rooted to his spot as she ascended the stairs, leaving him somewhat dumbstruck on the floor below. 

At the summit was a small, dimly lit room with a thick, black drapery hanging across one wall. Confusion graced Hermione's features as she looked about, seeking any door or window she could climb through. When her eyes fell back on the curtain, she groaned to herself. What is he playing at, she thought.

"Through the drapes, Granger," he uttered from behind her, and she jumped. She hadn't heard him approach, but she could feel the heat of his body now as he slid in behind her. His hand ghosted along her hip and heat pooled on her core at the feather-light caress.

"This isn't some sort of trick, is it Malfoy?" she whispered as she leaned back into his chest. 

"Not at all," he whispered into her ear, and she shivered. 

"If I miss the fireworks because of some joke, I'm going to be livid." 

"I'll set a bloody alarm, Granger, just get in the damn curtain," he growled as he set a hand on her lower back and pushed her forward toward the curtain slit.

As she stepped through, it took a touch for her eyes to adjust to the low level of light. As her vision came clearer, she saw only a large bed pushed against one wall, two tables flanking each side. Her cheeks flushed bright red, thinking Draco had brought her to some sort of love grotto. But when she noticed the snacks sitting on serving trays atop the mattress, she fell confused.

A sliding of stone caught her attention, and she turned to him. He had opened some sort of panel on the wall.

"Put your finger in here," he commanded, pointing to a small hole within the panel.

Doing as instructed, she stuck her index finger into the hole. Almost immediately, she felt a pin puncture her finger and yanked her digit out. "Ow, what the hell, Malfoy."

"Relax, it didn't even hurt." He was already relaxed against the headboard, hand in a bag of sweets, as he indicated the other side. 

Apprehensively, she rounded the bed and dropped into her spot, scooting her back against the headboard, as well. 

"Ready?" he asked with a grin.

"To be tossed in a dungeon? Not really." 

"As if I could manage to take you down," he laughed. "No, just clear your mind for a moment." 

"Okay…" she offered, but she couldn't. She was currently sitting in a dark room, half-naked in bed with a man she had held a crush on for ages. Her cheeks flamed at the idea, and she was thankful the lights were low.

"Close your eyes," he whispered then, and a wave of pleasure coursed through her. "Now, just think of a place you wish to see stars from." 

"What?"

"Granger, do as you're told," he demanded, and another wave of desire traveled straight to her center. She huffed, trying to sound obstinate, but joined her eyelids promptly. "Think of a place with the most brilliant view of the stars." 

"Anywhere?" 

"Anywhere in the world, Granger." 

Her mind whirled. She had read of many places throughout the globe where stars reigned supreme. She thought of Pic Du Midi, France, and the moon mapping that had been accomplished there. She thought of Namibia and the African safaris with wide-open views. But a smile graced her features as Lake Ballard in Western Australia invaded her mind. 

"Open your eyes," he whispered into the silence between them. 

When her eyelids fluttered open, she gasped. No longer was she sitting on a bed in a dark, draped room. All around her, stars twinkled against a night sky, reflecting off a lake of still, crystal water around her legs. She could feel she was still truly sitting on the bed, but everything around her was Lake Ballard. 

"Where are we?" he asked quietly.

"Lake Ballard… In Australia…" She could hardly speak. She didn't have the breath too. The scene had stolen it as soon as she had opened her eyes. She watched a few meteors fly by as she took in shallow breaths. 

It looked just like when she had visited with her parents after restoring their memories. So pristine. So pure. So breathtaking. She felt tears well in her eyes as she stared around her in amazement.

"This is… this is amazing, Draco," she whispered as she met his eyes. He had a soft smile on his face as he reached out and wiped a tear off her cheek. 

"How?" she requested. 

"Blaise and I have been working on it together. It's a mixture of Pensieve magic and some of our own concepts. A touch of muggle technology worked in, too." He turned to gaze at the space around them with a delicate smile on his face. "We've been working on it for years." 

"This is just… brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."

"You're the first one to see it, other than us." 

"Thank you…" she whispered. "It's so beautiful." 

"Crisps?" He asked with a laugh in his tone. 

"I don't think I'm hungry anymore," she whispered, her neck craned to take everything in. She felt a wave of magic as he vanished the snacks from the bed. 

"Lie back," he instructed. "Easier to see that way." 

She nodded somewhat dumbly as she stretched her legs out and sank into the pillows. Draco joined her, their arms only inches apart. 

"Are you going to sell this?" She queried. 

"No." 

"Why not?" 

"Investors aren't too keen when an ex Death Eater and his best friend start talking about blood magic." 

"The finger prick."

"Yes."

"That's not fair," she said somewhat heatedly. "It's not malicious magic."

"Well, life's not always fair, Granger." 

"But…"

"Besides, now, this can be ours," he breathed, and she felt his head turn, his gaze burning into the side of her face. She felt a bright smile grow over her features at the sincerity in his words. 

They laid under the stars for some time, for how long she didn't know, just silently enjoying each other's companionship. Every now and then, she'd feel the bed rustle as Draco shifted imperceptibly closer into her until their arms were practically touching.

She felt his finger graze hers, then trail softly across the back of her hand. It made her breath hitch, and she smiled as a desire formed on her features. When he ran his fingers down her palm smoothly and laced their fingers, she took a shuddered breath, a rich sensation of pleasure washing over her. 

She turned her head to him slowly, and his lidded eyes were already on her. He had the sweetest look on his face, and her heart jumped, making her clutch his hand. He smiled at that and started to slowly drift in toward her. Her breaths were short, jagged, as his lips neared hers. When he closed his eyes, she joined him. She could feel his breath ghosting against her lips, and she wanted to lean in and seize him. 

When their lips scarcely met, a loud blaring rang out around them, frightening them both. They jumped apart, like two teenagers being caught behind a tapestry snogging. He groaned as he sat, gripping his wand on the table beside him, and the loud warbling ceased. 

"Come on, then. Time for fireworks." He sighed heavily as he stood, and she could see the defeat written on his shoulders.

"Draco…" Hermione whispered as she scrambled to her knees over to his side of the bed, reaching out and gripping his hand. He had a confused look on his face as he turned to her. They were nearly faced to face, him standing and her kneeling on the mattress in front of him. 

"There's always next year," Hermione breathed, and a loaded smirk grew across his face.

He moved quickly, sitting her thumb on her chin, his fingers wrapped underneath, and raised it. He pressed a tender kiss to her lips, and her core soaked immediately, a cacophony of flutters raging in her gut. 

"Do you know how long I've wanted to see you in that shirt?" He whispered against her lips as he kissed her again. "And now all I want to do is rip it off you." His words ignited a wave of pleasure in her womanhood, which clenched as it grew wetter. She could feel his hardened member against her stomach, and the size astounded her.

He kissed her deeper, and she let her hands trail up his clothed chest, circling around his neck as she opened her mouth. He swept his tongue in and mingled it with hers as his hands fell to clutch her hips. She moaned at the pressure his fingers made as they dug into her hip bones, and heard him growl deep in his throat in reply.

He fisted his loose shirt in his hands, pulled back slightly, and lifted it skillfully off her body. His nostrils flared as his eyes set on her breasts, a smirk spreading across his lips. He dropped a hand to her bust and palmed it roughly, pinching her nipple between his fingers. When she opened her mouth to moan, he was there to meet it, his tongue sweeping into her mouth in a searing kiss.

When he reached up and gripped her wild curls, yanking her head back lightly and biting her throat, she gasped out at a pleasure she didn't know she liked. 

"Likes it rough, does she?" He said in a low growl next to her ear that made her body quiver. "Lie back," he commanded, and she thought she might have cum as her cunt seized. She fell backward onto the bed, her legs falling open. He quickly discarded his shirt, and his eyes scanned her body heatedly. 

He slid two fingers into the waistband of her transfigured shorts and tugged them down hastily. She could smell her arousal permeate the room immediately, and her face flushed.

He ran a slow finger up her folds, toying with her clit as he reached her apex. "You're so ready for me, Granger," he laughed darkly as he twirled her clit once more and then smacked her pussy. The wet sound his slap made caused her body to crimson. She sensed his hands come from underneath her then, and grip her hips, dragging her down the bed until her arse met the edge. 

He sank to his knees in front of her, his hands tugging her legs wide. She saw him grin heatedly, inhale deeply, and then his mouth was on her. He ran a hot tongue up her center, and her body arched instinctively. His hands circled her thighs further, and his fingers pulled her pussy lips apart. He took a moment to enjoy her view, and then his mouth fell on her again. 

She moaned out loud, hands gripping the sheets as he sucked her clit. 

"Oh, gods, Draco," she whimpered between her moans as his tongue flicked against her femininity. Hermione felt her body tremble as she dropped a hand into his hair, tugging tightly. He chuckled against her clit, and the heat shot pleasure straight through her. 

One of his hands left her body, but not for long. He ran two fingers down her folds and forced them into her slit quickly. She cried out, her legs shaking as he pumped his fingers into her, his mouth sucking, and licking, and biting her clit. 

"Faster," she moaned, and he obliged. Her whole body started to convulse as both her hands gripped the sheets. 

"I'm… I'm close," Hermione moaned loudly as she felt him hook his fingers inside her. Her hips lifted from the bed in pure bliss.

"Good girl," Draco growled against her thigh as he bit it. "Cum for me," he demanded as his thumb fell to clit, circling roughly as the two hooked fingers inside of her pulsed. 

The world around her seemed to shatter as she felt her walls clamp. "Oh, my gods!" Her legs shook, feet pointing, as her orgasm took her. His teeth sank into her hip, sending ripples of pleasure to every inch of her figure. Her breath was ragged as she moaned his name over and over, praising whatever deity had put him between her thighs tonight. 

No sooner had she cum than she felt his presence leave her body entirely. She couldn't open her eyes to see where he went. And couldn't help the satisfied smile that graced her lips. 

Seconds later, she felt his hands on the back of her knees, lifting her legs as his hips pressed into the backs of her thighs. He cock laid across her apex, and she kneed. He moved his hips forward and backward, his member running through her folds, coating itself, and she whined. 

She felt his tip press against her slit, and she whimpered. Draco chuckled darkly, and a moment later, he filled her to the hilt, her loud gasp reverberating out through the small room. He pulled out slowly, and Hermione could feel every hard inch of him. He crashed into her again, and she gasped out once more. 

She opened her eyes to look at him, and he was bathed in stars. His smooth skin seemed to radiate in the artificial starlight. He looked stunning, his eyes cast downward, watching where their bodies joined. 

"Please," Hermione heard herself beg, and his eyes snapped to hers with a passion. He smirked down at her and pulled out once more, slamming into her with purpose. 

This time Draco didn't stop. His hands gripped the backs of Hermione's knees as he pushed into her over and over. She felt her body begin to quiver as he seemed to punish her womanhood. She closed her eyes as her back arched from the bed, her hips trying to snap and meet his pace. 

He dropped one leg then as he set the opposite heel against his shoulder. Hermione felt him bend forward, flexibility she didn't know she had parted her legs wide, and his lips were on hers in a searing kiss. Their tongues mingling as they snapped their hips in rhythm together. Her pants and cries saturated the space when their lips parted briefly, only for him to swallow them as he kissed her anew. 

She felt his free hand slide up her body and settle on her neck while he kissed her, his hips never stopping their invasion. He applied light pressure as if seeking permission, and she consented with a nod. He pulled back from her lips then, eyes meeting hers as he tightened his fingers around her neck. 

As the pressure on her throat intensified, she felt pleasure course through her bones. She gasped out, moaning as best she could as her hand fell to Draco's wrist, the other fisting the sheet. His fingers held firm on her neck, his eyes wandering her face as he crashed into her. 

He tightened his grip on the sides of her neck, and she felt her cunt throb. She has never been choked before, and she lamented all she had been missing. She panted, breathless moans falling from her mouth, and he grinned. Her legs started to shake again, mounting pressure in her begging for release. 

He leaned down next to her ear, pressure still firm on her trachea, and his hips never freezing their motion. "Are you going to cum for me again?" He growled in her ear as he sucked the lobe into his mouth. 

She tried to nod, but the pleasure raced through her, and her walls clamped about his cock. She screamed out, his hand leaving her throat as she cried his name, her second orgasm quacking through her. 

She felt spent, her cunt weeping with pleasure as he withdrew himself. He lifted her hips effortlessly and turned her over.

"On your knees, Granger," he demanded, and she shakily did as she was instructed, thrill coursing through her at his dominance. She shifted forward somewhat and hiked her arse in the air, her face pressed against the mattress as her back bent. Hermione felt the bed depress, and Draco filled the space between her legs. 

He leaned over and kissed her shoulder as he slid inside of her anew. She cried out softly as he set a slow pace, pushing into her softly, sweetly. It sent the same waves of pleasure through her as his frantic speed had, and she moaned loudly, her hands falling backward to grip his thighs. 

She felt a soft finger put a circled pressure against her clit and moaned loudly. "It won't be long," Draco whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. 

She nodded as the pleasure started to build rapidly in her already sensitive core. She could feel a third wave rising as he picked up the pace circling her clit. 

"Draco," she moaned lustily as her body started to vibrate. He kissed her shoulder again as his finger disappeared from her clit. His chest left her back, and both hands gripped her hips tightly as he increased his speed, snapping his hips faster into. 

"Fuck," he grunted as his movement became frantic, his fingers digging into her hips and drawing her back and forth as he fucked her. Her body pleaded to come again, her legs shaking as her loud cries permeated the air. 

"Oh, gods, Draco!" She shouted as her fingers clutched his thighs, her walls clamping tight around him as she came a third time. 

"Fuck, you're perfect, Hermione," he said, and her pleasure seemed to soar at the sound of her name. Her fingernails dug into his legs as he cried out, "Fuck," and pushed into her thrice more before his movements stilled within her. 

She felt his head fall into the middle of her shoulder blades, and he laughed softly as he dropped a heated kiss there. She couldn't move as she felt him withdraw, then a cooling sensation flow over her core as he whispered a cleansing charm. 

He smacked her arse roughly, and they both chuckled. 

"Are you going to move?" He asked with laughter in his voice.

"Can't," she panted, and he snickered, dropping a kiss to the arse cheek he had just spanked. 

She felt his arms circle her and pull her up, her back to his chest, and she relaxed in him. He moved her hair aside and peppered kisses along her neck and shoulder as he held her tightly, their breaths slowing in sync. She moaned somewhat at the contact as his arms tightened around her. 

He lifted her effortlessly then, moving the sheets and depositing her between them. Hermione couldn't open her eyes, but she knew she had a sated grin on her face. 

He laughed as he laid down beside her. "Try not to look so satisfied, Granger." 

"Can't," she snickered somewhat, the contented smile pulling deeper into her face. 

Draco wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his side. She draped her body over his and kissed his chest. Inclining her head toward his, she finally cracked her eyes.

His hair was stuck to his head, and his face was flushed. She ran a hand slowly up his chest, and he inhaled sharply. Placing her fingers softly on his cheek, Hermione drew his face toward hers, pillowing a sweet, meaningful kiss to his lips. He pulled her tighter as they shared a final, loving embrace. 

"Hell of a first date, Granger," he murmured against her lips, and she laughed brightly.

"I can't wait until Blaise hears about this." They both laughed noiselessly as they stared up at the stars around them, drifting into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
